


set my soul on fire

by berrywarbler



Category: Glee
Genre: Coffee Shops, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berrywarbler/pseuds/berrywarbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel Berry was the last person Blaine expected to pull him out of the monotony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	set my soul on fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is. 5000 words of pure fluff. You're welcome.

There were tons of coffee shops in Manhattan; Starbucks lined up on every other block, Dunkin Donuts and thousands of smaller brands not quite as well known, Duane Reades and Walgreens with coffee sections if you were in a desperate need of a fix, and what seemed like billions of tiny corner stores and shops, owned and passed down from family member to family member, nameless places that got lost in the mix of one building to the next as tourists and civilians alike passed by them. 

Blaine had tried coffee from what had to have been at least twenty different places by the time his freshman year at NYU was over, and not one of them made his drink the way he liked. It was good, of course - even when it was bad, coffee was like sex and pizza - it was still better than none at all. But he couldn’t go his entire collegiate career without a good, strong caffeinated beverage, and despite his parents footing all his bills, he applied for an open barista position at the quiet coffee shop outside his dorm.

That had been two years ago, on the cusp of his sophomore year and even now while he was preparing for his senior year, he hadn’t quit. He liked the dim atmosphere, the soft music that pumped through hidden speakers and while the customer base could border on rude more often than not, it was a good way to connect with his professors outside of class and office hours, to meet new people and to befriend those he would have never run into otherwise. 

Santana Lopez, for example; a business major preparing for law school with their other friend Sebastian Smythe, both of whom he wouldn’t have met had they not frequented in the evenings to pour over books together for their various tests and papers together, counting on Blaine to keep them well supplied with coffee throughout the night. The brunette girl had stumbled in one night the winter of his sophomore year and to his recollection, she hadn’t really left. Sebastian himself had appeared at her side one day, grouchy and irritable but flashing what Blaine was sure he thought was a charming smile in his direction bringing words laden with innuendo as his fingers trailed as suggestively as they could across a stick of biscotti. 

Blaine learned overtime that it was a part of his charm, or lack thereof - and while it was still occasionally directed towards him, Sebastian’s attention span lasted about twelve hours. Long enough to spot, conquer and split - never once looking back at what he might have left behind. A trail of starstruck boys too naive to realize what had happened, of wide eyed girls who had no claim over him whatsoever, and a smirk ever present on his face. 

Somehow, over the course of time and the convenience of being around one another all the time, the three of them had formed a friendship, the closest one Blaine could remember having in years. He lived at Sebastian’s apartment as often as his own, Santana falling asleep curled up on his lap on numerous occasions during movie marathons or after late nights out, and while it was an interesting combination, it seemed to work for them. 

But as wonderful as his best friends were, there was something missing, the comfort that came from a stable relationship that despite his best of intentions, Sebastian couldn’t convince Blaine was the same with a string of one night stands. It had been too long since his heart had been broken, shattered and left behind by a boy in high school and leaving him to mend on his own. He was older now, wiser - or so he hoped - and while he wasn’t actively looking for someone to walk in and carry him away from his life, it had reached a complacency that screamed of mediocrity, the monotony dulling his senses until he was sure everything was turning into a shade of black or white from sheer listlessness. 

Until she came in.

He had never given girls much thought; not after high school and an incident involving seven minutes in heaven and his neighbor from childhood, Quinn, the two of them pushed into a close together, jeers taunting the two to kiss from outside it’s door. It had been sweet, innocent, barely more than a peck and when they both came out as gay a year later, not one person was surprised, least of all each other. 

It had always been boys, from the time he was eight and had a crush on Hunter, a fourth grader with a mean streak, until three nights prior when it had been some nameless guy from around the area happening to be at the same bar Sebastian had dragged him to. He liked the sharp lines of their body, their firm abs and coming apart underneath them, the scrape of a five o’clock shadow across his jaw and the sharpness of teeth digging into his skin. He hadn’t put thought into soft curves, hair that flowed halfway down her back and lips - soft, supple, tinted too red to be natural - but she overwhelmed his senses from the second she walked in. 

“Just a small chai latte, please,” she said with a soft smile, brown eyes wide and hypnotizing and he could hear Sebastian chuckle from his usual table, surely lounging across two seats as Blaine nodded in response, moving into action quickly to prepare her beverage and sneaking glances at her from moment to moment. He watched as her teeth caught her lower lip as she smiled at something on her phone, a quiet giggle breathed out before her fingers moved to type something in return, how long her legs were beneath the short skirt she wore, her skin tan and shimmering in the dull lighting overhead. 

He was memorized, entranced, and when he handed her the drink, he shook his head as she prepared to pay him. 

“It’s on the house,” he promised, showing her his own smile as she tilted her head to look at him, examining him as much as he had done her without her noticing. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice a soft melody that wound it’s way through his ears and woke up parts of him he hadn’t realized were really sleeping. 

“Positive,” he promised, and she laughed quietly as she thanked him, her smile wide as she headed towards the door, only looking back once to wave goodbye before Sebastian nearly doubled over in laughter.

“Priceless,” he wheezed, only straightening up when Blaine hit him with a spare towel laying on the counter. “It’s been so long since you’ve been in a relationship you’re hitting on girls now.” 

Blaine had no reply. 

-:-

The next time she came in, Blaine was busy with customers and couldn’t do anything more than watch as she flirted with Brody, his co worker taking care of the register, a sting of jealousy striking low in his stomach before he hurried to make her latte and passing it off before Brody could get his grubby paws on her. The smile she sent his way - the same bright, wide, brilliant one that seemed to send butterflies shooting through his system - was worth the annoyance that radiated off the older guy, and he kept it with him the entire rest of his shift. 

“You’re smitten with a girl you don’t even know,” Sebastian pointed out at the bar a few nights later, incredulity and disgust coating his tone as Santana laughed from her own bar stool, pounding back a vodka tonic before slamming the glass on the counter. 

“Sounds like my dream,” she retorted, pulling Blaine to the dance floor and forcing him to move his hips with hers, never one to waste time she wanted to use for stalking her own prey for the evening. And he could understand the motivation, normally he was right by her side as they narrowed down their choices for the evening, but he didn’t have it in him to find some random guy and get lost in a sea of sweat and sin, not the way she seemed to as she left him to sway with a tiny blonde. 

“You’ve seen her twice,” Sebastian reminded him once Blaine found his way back to the bar, a fresh bottle of beer presented in front of him almost immediately. “You don’t know her name, how old she is - fuck, if she’s even straight or single.” 

“None of these things ever matter to you,” Blaine retorted with a raise of his eyebrow, his friend laughing in agreement as he nodded his head, sipping at his own beer. 

“But if there’s something we’ve learned, tiger, it’s that you are definitely not me.” 

That much was true, but without knowing any of the things Sebastian had pointed out Blaine was severely lacking, he had no way of finding out anything else. Even a name would be something to go on - the internet helped with that; stalking someone you met randomly on facebook and google was hardly out of the norm these days, and it would likely tell him more about her and if he should give up his hopeless, odd crush or not. 

He just had to find out something about her, and if she came by the shop again, he was determined to get what he could. 

-:-

School started again and his schedule left few hours for working, fewer opportunities to run into the girl, but fate intervened by the middle of September. Blaine had already started to bury the girl away as a fleeting memory that he’d never really recollect on in the future, his attention diverted to a taller boy in one of his music classes whose laugh had captured his attention early on, until she walked in one Tuesday afternoon when the shop was dead, Blaine alone behind the counter attempting to work on a paper for one of his classes. 

“It’s quiet in here today,” she said by way of greeting when she walked in, Blaine starting as he slipped off the back counter and felt the unfamiliar skip in his chest when her eyes connected with his own. 

“Beginning of the week,” he grinned at her, already prepping the latte he knew she would want. “No one’s ready for coffee at 3pm on a Tuesday.” 

“Except for me,” she laughed quietly, her hair thrown up in a high ponytail and bouncing with her giggles, Blaine chuckling in reply. 

“Except for you, Ms....” he said, trailing off in a poor effort to find out her name.

“Berry,” she replied, “Rachel Berry. I’m a senior over at NYADA, but my rehearsals for our winter show are all the way down here,” she explained, needlessly answering all the questions he had no idea how to form as he handed her her drink, waving away her movements for her wallet. She bit down on her lip for a minute as he insisted it was fine, her head tilted just so again like she was examining him to decide if he was a potential threat or not, before her words took him by surprise. “Why don’t you join me?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, slightly caught off guard and eyes wide but she merely smiled at him regardless. 

“It’s empty in here,” she explained, “and this is now the second time you’ve given me a free drink. I think it’s time we get to know one another better.” 

He laughed, nodding in agreement before giving in, pulling his apron over his head and resting it on the back counter before refilling his own coffee he’d been slowly working on all day and moving to sit at one of the smaller tables with her - close enough to the counter that he could jump up if needed. 

“I’m Blaine,” he said as he sat down at her prodding, “I’m also a senior, though I attend NYU.” 

“I know,” she said, completely nonchalantly and he looked at her almost warily, even as she smirked over her latte with a small giggle, “I went to high school with Santana.” 

“You - “ his mouth hung open in shock as she laughed again, the sound almost a song and he couldn’t believe his friend hadn’t told him that the girl he was trying to find had been an old classmate, of all things. “I had no idea.” 

“I know,” she said simply, shrugging her shoulders before leaning back in her chair, making herself more comfortable as she crossed her legs underneath the small table, her foot hitting his leg and sending sparks through his system at the accidental brush, “Not to come off as _too_ forward, but I asked Santana about you - I didn’t realize she was one of your close friends, at the time, I just know she goes to NYU and thought she might have been in here before.” 

“You asked about me?” he asked, unable to keep a smile from toying at his lips as she blushed, her head ducking to hide the pink crawling across her skin before she nodded, sipping at her drink and looking mildly embarrassed at being confronted about it, despite how she had just admitted to it. “It was the free latte, wasn’t it?” 

She let out a loud laugh at that, nodding in agreement before tipping the drink in question towards him, “it was definitely the free drink,” she agreed. 

A customer walked in, interrupting the thought process he had as he darted behind the counter, but she waited patiently for him to serve the older gentleman, only for a group of teenage girls to come chattering in, the mid-afternoon rush hitting hard and quick, leaving him no time to apologize and when he looked up again, finding a moment to ask for her number, at the very least, so they could try again outside of work, she was gone, slipped between the cracks, and the only benefit he had was the knowledge that this time, she wouldn’t be gone so easily. 

-:-

“Give me her number,” Blaine said the second Santana walked up to the counter a day later, her eyebrow raised in question while Sebastian muttered a quiet ‘Christ’ from her side, taking a look around before sliding himself over the counter top to make his own beverage when Blaine refused. 

“You don’t want her number, Anderson,” Santana quipped, her arms crossed over her chest and Blaine mimicked her pose, refusing to back down unless the girl gave him what he wanted. “Berry’s - she’s not _fun_ ,” she drawled, leaning against the countertop and pouting at Blaine, who simply shook his head and refused to move to fix her favorite mocha. “She’s all work and no play, Blaine. And you’re _gay_.” 

“Ask him about his latest theory,” Sebastian mumbled around a cookie as he handed Santana a drink, “about how apparently, after one sort of coffee date, he knows that she’s his _exception_.” 

Santana didn’t even deem that with a verbal response, simply raising her eyebrow at Blaine as she looked at him over her shoulder while they dropped their bags at their usual table, a few away from the one he and Rachel had talked at. 

“It’s not _impossible_ ,” he defended himself with, “I never said I wasn’t gay - Sebastian can attest to that one himself - but I can’t deny that I’m attracted to her too.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” Santana shrugged, plopping herself down unceremoniously before rifling through her bag for whatever exceedingly large text book she would need for the night. “Because she’s probably not attracted to you.” 

“Why would you say that?” Blaine asked, wary that Santana was just playing the games she normally did - lies and manipulation were her right hand men, after all, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d toyed with Blaine’s mind for her own amusement. 

“Because she only dated football players in high school. Jocks. Tall, too dumb to function jocks.” 

“Are you just jealous she dated all your beards before you did, Lopez?” Sebastian sneered, breaking off a piece of his cookie while Blaine pulled up his own chair to join them in the deserted coffee house, mulling over the girls’ words. 

“Please, in my high school everyone dated everyone - which meant I fucked her highschool sweetheart, the guy she used to make the sweetheart jealous when they weren’t together, and her prom date junior year - all before she did.” 

“A shining accomplishment,” Sebastian smirked, the two of them quieting down and leaving Blaine to his own thoughts. 

He had to admit, he didn’t know Rachel nearly enough to discredit what Santana told him about her. But she _had_ been at least mildly attracted to him, enough so that she had asked her connection to NYU about him, that she had come back and asked him on an impromptu pseudo-date. Which meant that he did have room in there for himself, somewhere, if he could only figure out how to get her around on his own time, where he wouldn’t be torn away from her to do his job. Where he could prove that even if he wasn’t nine feet tall and a football player, he was still a good guy. 

Santana was too observant for her own good, her eyes sharp and her mind quicker; stealing her phone away from her was his only shot to Rachel’s number, though, and he had to make sure he was quick enough to get what he needed before she noticed and started yelling profanities in spanish again, the only real way Blaine ever knew she was beyond pissed off at him. 

Sebastian moved closer to ask her a question, Blaine spotting his chance and he slipped her phone into his pocket while pretending to clean up after them, moving behind the counter to search for the number before she’d notice. He searched through her contacts as subtly as he could, though he wasn’t sure she even knew half of the names listed inside of it, finally coming across the name RACHEL BERRY with an emoji gold star after it, a small smile toying at his lips as he scratched the number down on a napkin while he kept one eye on his friends working, praying silently he could get away with his actions before Santana noticed. 

He managed to slip her phone back into her bag before she noticed, a feat he hadn’t been sure he could actually pull off but a sense of pride filled him before the nerves settled in - now that he had her number, he was going to have to use it. 

-:-

It took another two days to work up the courage - and time - to actually double tap on her number, the screen dimming as he gulped and held it up to his ear, thoughts wondering just what the _fuck_ he was doing running through his mind. No one ever called anyone these days; he never even called his brother Cooper in Los Angeles, and yet he was waiting for a girl he’d seen three times in his life to answer an unknown number flashing across her screen. 

Every possible scenario seemed to play through his mind while he waited for any sort of answer, whether it was her voicemail or her. What if she was in class? What if she was on a date with someone? Or worse, what if she was with Santana who would undoubtedly know his phone number. 

“Hello?” finally answered him, slightly breathless and Blaine felt his stomach flip internally before he cleared his throat, immediately rolling his eyes at himself for how ridiculous he was being. 

“Hi, Rachel, it’s - it’s Blaine? From the coffee shop? Friends with San-”

“Santana, yes, hi,” she replied with a small laugh, at least sounding genuine about it and not completely deterred by his almost stalker-esque tendencies. 

“I’m sorry about the other day,” he apologized, though she waved it off with a quick ‘it’s totally understandable,’; “you left before I could actually get around to asking you out, though.” 

She was silent for a minute and he worried he’d crossed a line, read between the lines something that wasn’t there and he was prepared to backtrack, to apologize and take it back, hang up and hang his head in shame when she finally responded. 

“Friday night,” she offered, “there’s a bar over here near NYADA - Callbacks. 9pm?” 

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, silently letting out a breath he hadn’t meant to be holding. “I’ll see you there, then.” 

“It’s a date,” she said in that small, musical voice with the little laugh he was already too attached to, hanging up on him after a short ‘bye, Blaine.’ 

He was just glad she hadn’t asked him how he got her phone number. 

-:-

Sebastian spent the better part of the week mocking him, throwing bits of biscotti at him while Blaine cleaned and he avoided his work, while Santana frowned over her mocha’s. 

“Of all the girls in New York,” she sighed heavily, “you have to find Rachel freakin’ Berry, and decide that _she’s_ your exception.” 

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Blaine had shrugged in response, though her responding glare had kept him quiet from arguing further that she had no qualms about openly hitting on his childhood best friend when she visited, that this couldn’t possibly be this different. 

In truth, he was too nervous to really go up against Santana. He had the feeling he would only really get one shot with this girl, and it was enough to make him second guess everything he was doing. Because he had no idea how to woo a girl, why he was attracted to a girl, if it would even pan out - perhaps Sebastian was right in that it had just been too long since he’d been in a relationship that he was simply clinging onto the first bright smile he found. 

All of his doubts were dashed the second he walked into a reasonably crowded bar Friday night, hand nervously smoothing down the front of his cardigan as if that might push away the nerves as well. It was mostly NYADA students milling about, though he spotted a few Tisch hoodies in the mix as his eyes trailed over the crowd for a specific brunette. 

“Looking for me?” she asked from behind him, Blaine spinning around to find Rachel standing there looking almost as nervous as he was. 

“I was, actually,” he replied, leaning forward and kissing her cheek brazenly and appreciating the way her cheeks flushed pink at the contact before he waved her ahead of him. “Should we find a table in here?” 

Rachel nodded, her hand wrapping around his wrist to pull him forward through the crowd until they had what was probably the most perfect table - not too far from the bar, the best view of the small stage where people were dancing and singing along to the karoake the bar offered, but pulled back enough to give them a little privacy to talk, to get to know one another, to unfold one anothers lives over drinks and music. 

“I take it you come here a lot,” he concluded, and her responding laugh was answer enough, light and airy as it floated away from them. 

“Since my freshman year,” she admitted, “though they’re surprisingly strict on their underage drinking, which means I wasn’t ever able to actually drink. I mostly just came to sing.” 

“Santana mentioned you’re a singer; one with Broadway dreams, actually.” It had taken a lot for him to get even that out of Santana, but he hadn’t wanted to be blindsided and she’d taken pity on giving him a few pointers on just what Rachel may be interested in. 

Her look was curious, even as she nodded. As if she was debating on saying something and he could feel his pulse begin to race at the implications - maybe he’d gone too far, asking Santana about her, but she seemed to sense his impending breakdown and rested her hand lightly on his shoulder - neutral territory, Blaine noted - and simply stated “Don’t believe everything Santana’s told you.” 

“So, no to Broadway then?” he teased, knowing she meant more than just that basic fact. It was something he could have conjured up on his own as it was; NYADA, New York, a personality that seemed too large for such a small girl. 

“Broadway may be the only thing she has right,” Rachel laughed in return, “but it’s been a long time since Santana and I have spent more than a few minutes here and there together. I’d rather you get your own impression than going off what Santana said.” 

“Trust me,” Blaine said, his eyes wide in pretend horror, “I would rather that too.” She laughed, which had been his hope, and he let out his own chuckle before he offered to go get them drinks, leaving her at the table while he wandered over to the bar, his eyes falling back on her every few minutes despite his determination not to. 

But she was just - breathtaking, in a way that he couldn’t seem to help himself. It was more than her looks, than the soft dark hair that she fidgeted with, lean fingers running through it as she watched the drunk girls who had taken to the stage a minute before, more than just the simple curves outlined in her red dress, than long legs that seemed to go on for miles despite her short stature. She had an energy about her, one that seemed to draw him in until he knew everything that made her tick. 

And he spent almost three hours with her in that bar, listening to her talk about anything and everything; about her two fathers and growing up in Ohio with Santana, about NYADA and New York and how much Broadway meant to her. He told her about Cooper and why he had chosen NYU when he could have gone anywhere in the world and when she asked him to do a duet on stage with her, he was three beers in and couldn’t find it in himself to say ‘no’. 

“You choose,” Rachel offered as they flipped through the song selection book, her lips pursed around the straw from her daiquiri. 

“What about...” he said, humming quietly as he flipped to the ‘g’ section, hoping it would be listed in the heavy anthology and grinning triumphantly as his finger landed on the title, eyes flicking over to see her own amused smile in return. “I know it’’s not Broadway, but - “

“I like classic rock,” she replied with a shrug, returning the book to it’s spot and writing down their names, a small star after her own that made him only grin in return before they waited to be called. 

They were the last ones to perform for the night, but the crowd had hardly diminished, people grouped together in pairs all over the bar as they climbed the small stage; Rachel handed him the microphone and while it had been years since he’d performed, it was like stepping into a second skin, as natural to him as breathing as he tapped his toe to the beat while she swayed lightly next to him, letting him take over the first verse on his own. 

“ _I don’t need a whole lots of money,_ ” he sang, his voice reverberating around the bar as the sound technician raised the volume for them, cheers already called out and only growing louder as she joined in, smiling at him and she just - she shone, right there, on that stage. There was no other place for her, and all that excitement and energy she had pouring out of her was shining in his direction, and he’d be a fool not to be excited about that. 

His hand found hers and he spun her around on the stage as they sang, both of them a little tipsy and cheeks flushed from the light and adrenaline and when the song ended, they’d found themselves mere inches apart, staring at each other with the most ridiculous smile he’d ever worn in his life. He barely even listened to the applause they were met with, their microphones cut off as he leaned forward to whisper “Don’t go home yet,” low in her ear. 

“Okay,” she agreed, and they put their mics down before she grabbed her jacket and purse, meeting Blaine by the door where he already formed a plan on what to do next. 

The fall air was still crisp enough to cool down his heated skin but pleasant enough that they could walk back towards the NYU campus, towards the coffee shop that would undoubtedly be closed when they got there. 

“Perks of working,” he grinned when he saw her apprehensive expression while he slipped the key out of his pocket, letting them in and turning on just enough lights to see while keeping it dim enough so that no one would think they were, for some reason, open at nearly two in the morning. 

“Breaking and entering?” she teased, though she followed him in and he laughed, pulling her behind the counter and letting her sit up on the ledge while he made her the same drink she’d had every time she’d come in to visit, passing it off before preparing his own. “You’re really sweet, you know,” she said quietly, and he blushed lightly at that, ducking his head before turning to face her once more, a small smirk reminiscent of his best friend on his face. 

“Only to pretty girls with talented voices,” he complimented, her own giggle and blush pulling him forward until he was standing in front of her, resting between her legs with one hand on her thigh and the other brushing stray hair behind her ear. Her eyes were wide, a deep brown that he could find himself lost in and he knew, without a doubt, that he had to kiss her. His thumb traced over her bottom lip as he tilted her chin up lightly, her breath light and sporadic against his skin before he pulled her forward, kissing her lightly and waiting until she responded before pushing for any more. He could taste the fruit and alcohol from her drinks mixed with the chai she’d been drinking on her tongue, could hear the almost silent mewl escape between them and when they pulled back, she looked almost as dazed as he felt. 

“I’m not - I wasn’t really looking for anything,” she said quietly, “I mean, Santana told me you were gay.” 

“Maybe you’re my exception,” he said quietly, his hand still cupping her cheek, keeping himself as chaste as he possibly could, “do you think I could be yours?” 

Rachel let out a laugh, ducking her face and trying to shield him from seeing the pink that spattered across her cheeks, but he could feel it still in the palm of his hand before she nodded, looking up at him once more. 

“I would love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from Grand Funk Railroad's 'Some Kind Of Wonderful', which is also the song they sang at karaoke.


End file.
